Ravishment Of The Rose
by M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Summary: In her darkest hour, Samantha accidentally discovers Sheriff Ed's true identity and learns that an enemy can become her greatest ally. After Otis and before Las Brisas. Warning, deals with rape.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: This story deals with the aftermath of rape and while Samantha chooses not to report it, the medical followup and the psychological repercussions are very realistic. As always reviews are appreciated.

Ravishment of the Rose

Chapter 1

One cool fall evening in Georgia, fall leaves rustled and the sensual scent of their decay perfumed the air. Clouds swirled about the full moon and obscured the stars as they whispered soft threats of rain. All in all it was a beautiful night as Jack drove towards Atlanta. The trial of Donald Lucas was a few weeks away and he wanted to return to his Atlanta lair. While it had been amusing watching the VCTF flounder in Otis, it was good to be returning so he would be closer to his Samantha. Jack sang along softly with the CD player in his car. Earlier that day he'd flown to Ohio and picked up the black sedan he was driving from his lair near Cincinnati.

Pausing at an intersection near Lafayette, Jack lit a fresh cigarette and tore open a bag of cheetos for dinner. He should probably take a detour to Savannah and visit his mother, but he wanted to put that off for a little longer. Atlanta was where Samantha was and that was where Jack wanted to be. On the passenger side seat, he had a huge bouquet of roses from a small garden he kept in Ohio to feel closer to his Samantha on the long drive. At least he didn't have to wear Ed Boast's uniform yet, he reflected in satisfaction. His hands were encased in black leather gloves, he wore a long black trenchcoat over a black cashmere sweater and pants. Rain began to drizzle as he drove. The closer Jack got to Atlanta, the harder the rain came.

"And the heavens open up," Jack said and wondered if he would have to pull over until the rain let up.

A strange feeling suddenly seized Jack and he nearly lost control of his vehicle. It was as if someone had walked on his grave. He had another hour or so before he got to Atlanta and he began to drive faster as an inexplicable feeling of desperation seized him. Jack ignored the rain and pressed on faster and faster as a feeling of doom began to fill him. Nausea began to rise within him and Jack started trembling, but he continued driving.

"Am I losing my mind?" he asked aloud as a truck honked loudly at Jack as he passed.

Jack didn't know what was wrong, but it felt like the fabric of the universe itself was being shredded. In his mind he heard a woman screaming. No, not a woman. Samantha! In his mind Samantha was screaming. Jack continued to dart in and out of traffic, driving faster and faster. Law be damned! Either he was on the brink of insanity or his Samantha needed him and either way he had to get to Atlanta and fast. As he drew closer to Atlanta, the screams died down to sobs and his feeling of foreboding rose to a frenzy. In contrast with the driver's rising anguish, the rain began to lighten to a drizzle.

Driving as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, Jack sped through the night, not slowing down until he just outside the city limits. As if a unseen force was guiding him, Jack took a turn and went down a winding country road on the outskirts of the city. In the darkness, he could have easily missed the huddled white ball. Jack thought of ignoring it and driving onwards, he knew it was a body, God knew he'd placed enough of them and it wouldn't do for the VCTF to find out Ed had come to town early or for Ed to discover a corpse. But the feelings that had seized him earlier were too strong to ignore, so he stopped his car about 15 yards from the body.

As he approached the hunched over figure, the first thing that he realized was naked figure definitely a woman. Then he heard a pathetic cry and saw her shuddering. Her head was bent over and all he could see were her white shoulders. The head lifted slightly and Jack saw she had long blonde hair. His heart constricted with fear and it took every drop of discipline Jack had to continue.

"Miss?" he asked hesitantly when he was closer still.

Jack's heart froze and shattered when the woman turned. Holding her arms around herself, naked and sobbing was a bloodied and battered Samantha. He wanted to pick her up and hold her, he wanted to scream to the heavens, and he wanted to destroy whomever had hurt his beloved. Instead he removed his coat and cautiously draped it around her. For several moments she stared blankly at him.

"Samantha?" he gently prompted. Jack wanted to get her in where it was warm and get her proper medical attention.

She remained silent and unmoving for several moments before speaking. "Ed?"

"That's right Samantha. Let's get you into my car where it's warm. Ok?"

He offered his hand to help her up and cautiously she took it. As she stood up, the full impact of her injuries and what had happened dawned on Jack. Before she got the coat on and wrapped tightly around her, he saw the bruises from hands on her breasts and blood shined on her inner thighs. Someone had violated his Samantha he concluded with bitter fury. She winced from pain and wordlessly, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his car. After opening the door, he tossed the roses in the back seat and guided her in. He got into the driver's side and shut the music off. His facial muscles were twitching reflexively as he smelled another man on his Samantha.

After a brief hesitation, Jack found his voice. "Samantha, I- we can call your friends when we get to the hospital."

There was no response and Jack slowly pulled back onto the road. Never in his entire existence had he felt so helpless. Beside him was the woman he lived for and would willingly die for, she was hurting and he could do virtually nothing about it. Unthinkingly, he grabbed a cigarette and lit it to steady his nerves. As he focused on the road, Jack was unaware of the sharp look that crossed Samantha's face and the darting glances she made around the car. Looking in the back she saw the very familiar roses and looked back at Ed. Pointedly she began to stare at his sleek abdomen.

Aware of her eyes on him, he assumed it was because she was distraught. Uncertain what to do, Jack tried to give her a look of understanding. "Don't worry Dr. Waters, Sheriff Boast will get you to the hospital in a jiffy," he drawled in his 'Ed' voice.

"No!" she declared emphatically. Despite her trauma, Sam added the elements up and realized who was really in the car with her.

"Dr. Waters, I understand this is a delicate situation and I'm certain Agent Malone can-"

"Drop the act," Sam interrupted. "Just stop it Jack."

Seeing she was entirely serious and further pretense was futile, he responded, "Samantha, I realize I'm the last person you want to deal with right now. But the fact remains you need to go to the hospital for a rape kit and proper follow-up treatment."

"Stop the car," she demanded. After the car stopped, she opened her door and threw up on the side of the road. Jack watched her intently from the car, but made no move towards her. For several minutes Sam stared into the night and thought. Then she got back in and said quietly, "No hospital."

Jack sat and didn't pull the car back onto the road as he tried to convince her that he was right. "Samantha- Sam. I'll phone one of your friends when we get there. I won't try to force my company on you if that's what you're worried about. You need a doctor to look at you."

"Jack, do you know what actually happens when a woman reports a rape? I'll tell you, after the examination, she gets to stand filthy and miserable as a detective photographs the injuries. Then if by some chance her case ever is solved and it's a damn slim chance, the lawyers rape her all over again in court!" Sam informed him, her voice become gradually more hysterical.

"I realize it's unfair, but your friends-"

"Oh yes, I tell them and have months of pitying stares and offers to 'talk' about it. Victims are given little dignity and if you're a female in law enforcement, even less so. Things leak out, in the various departments and then to the press. Can you imagine the field day they would have. I can see the fucking headlines now, 'Profiler Defiled.' No Jack! I won't go to the hospital and I'm not reporting this!" Sam screeched shrilly.

"Samantha, I-" Jack sat utterly helpless and unable to speak.

A tear coursed Sam's face and then another until she was sobbing, blindly she grabbed his sweater at the chest, balling the fabric in her hands and pleaded, "Please Jack! Please! Please! I can't do it! I can't! Please! Please! Help me Jack!"

"Ssshh," he soothed gently. "No one is going to force you to do anything. Just tell me what you want and I will do it. All I am and all I have is at your disposal."

"You called yourself, Dr. Trades, once. Are you really a doctor?"

"Quit before my residency was up," Jack answered.

"Can you deal with my- with my injuries?" Sam stuttered in embarrassment.

Jack hesitated before responding, "Yes, but you do realize I would have to examine you in a rather intimate manner. I could drive you to another city-"

"No!" she exclaimed harshly. Releasing her hold on his sweater, Sam settled in her seat and stared out the passenger window and pressed her face against the glass. After several silent minutes she said, "Take me home with you Jack."

Wordlessly, he started the car and pulled back onto the road. Jack wished he could make it all go away, but it was impossible. Anger coursed through his body as he thought of what his Samantha had endured. Tonight all he could do is tend her physical injuries and offer whatever meager comfort she would accept. Tomorrow, Jack would begin hunting for his prey and see to it that every injury inflicted on his Samantha was repaid by a thousand fold. Pushing away thoughts of vengeance, he ran through a mental inventory of his medical supplies and considered where to acquire further items he would need. Neither Jack or Samantha spoke for the rest of the trip...


	2. 2

Part 2

Jack's jaw was clenched tightly as he pulled into the parking spaces behind the building he used as his Atlanta sanctuary. Dozens of times he'd dreamed of bringing Samantha here, but never had he envisioned this in his worst nightmares. Samantha remained immobile in the car beside him as if in a trance. Rage and pain coursed through him, he'd killed countless people without a second thought, but never once had he forced himself on a woman. The next few hours would be the hardest of his life and Jack knew it. His Samantha needed him to be strong and controlled. Every action and every reaction on his part would forever color her opinions of him and even of herself.

"Saman- uh, Sam, we're here," he told her gently. Then offered, "If you've changed your mind and wish to go elsewhere, you have only to say the word, I won't force-" Bad word choice he realized as her face crumpled into a pained expression.

"Is there a back way in where we won't run into anyone?"

"All these vehicles are mine, I'm the only person who lives here. No one will disturb you my- You will have all the privacy you wish Sam," Jack struggled to tell her. He was trying very hard not to call her Samantha or call her his. Now was not the time to assert his position in her life, but is was so hard to call her merely Sam.

Jack got out of the car and walked around to Samantha's side and opened her door for her. The gallant and old fashioned gesture seemed so perverse after her ordeal that Sam laughed hysterically for a moment then began to sob. Tonight she'd been hurt and violated by total strangers and now the man she'd always hated was being a gentleman. He offered her a handkerchief which she accepted, wiping her eyes and taking a moment's odd comfort in the rose scent that clung to it. Sam felt so lost that anything familiar was comforting. When she saw Ed, she'd been grateful, but then when she realized it he was actually Jack, she felt relieved.

Jack was many things and there were many things about him she didn't know, but she did know he would protect her and help her at any cost. Initially she'd been so shocked by the rape and then being discovered by Jack she'd been uncertain of what to do. But as she'd been sick on the side of the road while his coat was the only barrier between her and the cool night air, Samantha made a decision. She wouldn't and couldn't report it. It was ironic she devoted her life to justice, but she knew the justice system failed women miserably when it came to rape. Sam didn't like being a victim and didn't want to let the press and the courts make her a victim all over again. There was a lot about Jack she didn't know, but one thing she was certain of was his devotion to her. Jack would help her, whatever the cost and tonight that was what she needed.

Jack stood watching the play of emotions over her face and quietly inquired, "Would you like me to carry you or do you prefer to walk?"

"Walk."

Quietly he led her towards the building's door watching her intently. Halfway to the door, her knees buckled and Jack caught her just as she fainted. He gathered her in his arms carefully and took her into the building and up the elevator to his main living area. After unlocking the door to his living quarters, he carried Samantha inside and sat her carefully on the lounge chair. Initially his impulse was to place her on the bed, but in light of her evening he thought it would be less traumatic for her to come to in a chair and to go to the bed of her own volition.

Jack decided when she'd been stripped of rights, one of the best things he could do is to empower her as much as possible and to be very careful about her boundaries. Although she would need to address her feelings eventually, so soon after the incident his Samantha needed to be treated with care and to be given a feeling of control. He moved to the kitchen area and put on a pot of coffee, it was going to be a long night. As the coffee started to go through the machine, he went back to Samantha's side.

Sam roused and looked at Jack and took in her surroundings, seeing her quizzical look, he explained. "You fainted, so I carried you in."

"Let's get this over with. Where do we start?"

"I know he didn't use a condom, I can smell him on you so I need to take a swab for a analysis."

"Them," she corrected almost inaudibly.

"There were two of them?" Jack knelt down and looked up at her downcast eyes.

"Thr- three. There were three of them." She turned her head away from his dark gaze.

Jack took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. "I need to take swabs of your mouth and under your nails and-"

"What for?" Sam demanded suddenly suspicious.

"Samantha, sorry I meant to say Sam, I understand you not wanting to involve the police, but you will have justice. Those men will suffer for what they did you-"

"Jack I can't let you-" she trailed off. Then weakly parroted, "Killing is wrong."

"What if I promise not to kill them?"

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I swear Samantha, I won't kill those men." But they would wish he was through, he swore silently.

"All right," she acquiesed. On some level she suspected Jack wouldn't keep his promise, but found she didn't mind as much as she should. After what she'd been through, the idea of those men dying screaming was rather appealing.

"If you're ready then, come with me." Jack rose and Samantha followed him.

He lead her into the bedroom and she studied it with detached interest. She looked slightly quizzically at the disco ball over the bed.

"Sharon," he answered her unvoiced question.

Samantha nodded and looked around uncomfortably as she realized what he would have to do. He had warned her that he would have to examine her intimately. Embarrassment left her as she saw the worried expression on his face. No, Jack wouldn't enjoy this anymore than she would. No, she decided, Jack had probably imagined her in his bed dozens of times in dozens of ways, but this would never have been one of them.

"There are some things I'll need to gather up. I'll need to get more things tomorrow, but I think I have everything we'll need tonight," he told her. Jack disappeared for a minute and came back with a handful of supplies. Taking a couple pillows from the head of the bed, he placed them on the end of the bed. "I think it would be easiest if you laid down on the end of the bed with the pillows underneath you."

Samantha removed the coat and laid down as Jack suggested, "Let's get this over with."

"Saman- sorry Sam would you like me to get you some towels to drape yourself with? I only need to have the areas exposed as I work on them."

"After the night I've had, it's a little late to worry about my privacy," she snapped bitterly then added, "And after all this time you've been stalking my every move I doubt anything about me is private from you anyway."

Jack took her cutting remark in stride, he knew she was trying to deal with her pain and if lashing out at him helped, he would let her. Bringing a rolling stool to the foot of the bed he began to speak in gentle tone. "Your happiness has always been important to me, tonight however, I understand nothing is happy for you. While I can't change that, I can see to your comfort and well being Saman- er sorry Sam."

"For God's sake will you stop apologizing! Just call me Samantha and be done with it! It's not like I'm going to forget who you are Jack just because you're trying to call me Sam!"

"I never believed otherwise," he replied focusing a pen-light flashlight between her legs and studying her thoughtfully. Pulling on a pair of surgical gloves he spread her legs a little further and began his task.

Sam watched in the mirror over the bed in the dim light as Jack gently inserted a swab, then applied it to a glass slide for analysis. Then he repeated with two more swabs and explained, "I want to make certain I have a viable slide. I'm sorry for any discomfort I may have caused you."

"It's fine."

Jack paused for moment and considered carefully before speaking, "The vaginal and oral swabs should be sufficient. We'll skip rectal, I don't think I can take a swab without causing you more pain." He stood up and handed her a swab for her mouth, "I'll let you swab your mouth. Will we get anything if we scrape under your nails?"

"Yes," she answered handing him the first swab from her mouth and accepting another as he began to apply the cotton tip to a glass slide.

After he finished making the slides from her oral swabs he inquired, "Would you like to sit for the next part or would you perhaps prefer to remain lying down, but have me remove one or more of the pillows?"

She considered for a moment. Sitting would be the strong thing to do, but it would also be the more painful and Samantha didn't feel like pretending to be strong. "Could you remove the pillows?"

"Of course," Jack answered and carefully eased them from under her hips. "After your fingernails, you can have a nice warm shower or bath if you prefer, then we'll see if you need stitches."

"Stitches?" Sam didn't like the sound of that at all. "I thought we were done."

Jack sat down beside her and took her hand in his as he gently worked a tiny sterile canula under her fingernails. "Samantha, you needn't worry that I'll hurt you, should you require any stitches, I have medication so you won't feel any pain. Until you're cleaned up I won't honestly know what we're dealing with. My initial examination was to make certain you weren't bleeding profusely and to take samples."

As Jack placed the scrapings on slides and organized them in his slide holder Sam watched. Jack removed his glove and she said needlessly, "I hate this."

Hesitantly, Jack reached for her hand and when she didn't jerk it away, he held her hand and rubbed it delicately with his thumb. Softly he whispered, "I know."

Samantha's eyes teared up and she demanded, "Why are you doing this?"

"I love you," Jack answered simply and released her hand. He longed to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he wasn't about to risk upsetting her with any unnecessary physical contact. "Would you like me show you the bathroom?"

Samantha nodded as she stood up and felt queasy as she saw blood on the sheets and the pillows he'd moved from underneath her. She clutched at Jack to steady herself and he deftly guided her away from the bed. When she was no longer looking at the bloodstains she felt a little better. It was funny, she could look at blood at crime scenes, but seeing her own made her nauseated.

Reading her thoughts, Jack told her, "I know I felt the same way last year when you- uh when I got shot. Should have seen the mess I made of this place."

"You seem to have lived," Sam retorted and then realized wryly, she was actually glad on some level that he had lived through it.

"That's the thing about blood, mix a few drops with other fluids and a couple teaspoons look like gallons," Jack stated casually.

She knew he was trying to comfort her without being obvious about it as he lead her into the brightly lit bathroom. Her calm was short-lived though as they entered the room and she got a good look at herself in the enormous gilded mirror that went from above the double sinks to the ceiling giving her a full body view of her injuries. Horrified, she clutched the counter surrounding the sinks and stared at herself...


	3. 3

Author's Note: Despite the unorthadox setting for treatment, this is fairly medically accurate. Reviews are appreciated.

Part 3

Samantha stared at herself in the mirror. Her body was a map of finger shaped bruises, that were varying shades of purple that would likely deepen to black by morning. There was dried blood around her mouth from when she'd bitten her tongue during the attack. One eye was blackened and the skin on her cheek beneath had split open from the impact of the blow. Between her legs, her sex was a raw angry shade of red from the abuse she'd suffered and bloodstains marred her inner thighs, a couple blood trails dried in rust paths reaching her knees.

Confronted with the view of her bloodied and injured body, the full impact of the night hit Samantha. Throughout the attack and even up until this moment, she'd tried to distance herself from it. She'd been upset and had cried, but seeing her reflection brought the trauma crashing down on her. Small shivers coursed her body and changed into violent tremors as she paled under her bruises. Samantha was going into shock, Jack realized and he grabbed her away from the mirror. Tossing towels on the floor, he gently pushed her down and pulled her feet onto the edge of the tub. She stared at him in confusion as he arranged her feet over her head.

Jack ran from the bathroom to kitchenette and poured some of the contents of the coffee pot into an oversized mug. Racing back to Samantha's side, he sat beside her and cradled her head in his lap. Thrusting a finger into the coffee to check the temperature first, he began to pour the warm liquid into her mouth. Disoriented and confused, she struggled slightly and coffee ran out of her mouth. Patiently Jack continued to urge coffee into her mouth, even as much of it spilled all over both of them. As the mug was emptied, he kicked his shoes off and moved to pull off his socks.

Carefully laying Samanatha's head back on the towels he turned on water, adjusted the temperature and turned on the shower. Jack picked her up and carefully maneuvered them both into the tub and held Samantha under the warm water. Standing fully dressed except for his bare feet he held her naked form under the water. Gently he rubbed her fingers and hands as he held her to help her circulation. Her trembling body was icy cold in his arms, Jack held her close, he didn't dare turn the water temperature higher for fear of burning her.

"It's going to be all right sweetheart. You'll be fine my Samantha," Jack murmured soothingly, as much for his benefit as hers. Slowly she began to warm under the water and Jack's careful ministrations. As she stabilized, Jack squeezed soft rose scented bath gel onto a pouf and gently washed Samantha. The less blood tinged water she saw go down the drain, so much the better.

Awareness returning to her, she blinked at him and said, "You have your clothes on."

"You were going into shock, I needed to get you warm as quickly as possible and this was the best way."

"Oh."

"I've got you mostly cleaned up, but I thought you might like to-" he halted uncertain how to put it. Gesturing downwards, he muttered, "You might prefer to wash your-"

"Yeah," she replied, taking the sponge from him and turning away from him. Briefly she wondered why he stayed in the shower then answered her own question. With the first pass of the soapy pouf between her legs, the pain was excruciating. The raw abraded flesh stung horribly from the soap and against her will a cry of pain erupted from her lips. Samantha would have fallen as she jerked from the pain had Jack not gently wrapped his arms around her to steady her. Gritting her teeth, she continued to wash away the traces of her attackers. She turned around to hand the pouf back and was surprised to see Jack biting his lower lip and his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Jack turned the water off, swallowed reflexively as he reigned his emotions in tightly, and suggested, "You might want to soak in the tub for a bit. The warm water would be good for your bruises."

Jack stepped out of the tub and pulled the lever to keep the water in the tub, then started running a bath for Samantha. Once the tub was filled he helped her down into the water and left her saying the door would be open and to call if she needed anything. Clothing dripping wet, Jack grabbed a cigarette and walked out onto the balcony. His hands shook as he struggled to light a cigarette and he stared up at the sky. Tears ran unchecked down his face as he exhaled smoke into the night. How could God let this happen to his Samantha? It was his fault, he hadn't been watching her as carefully as he should have. If he had returned just one day earlier, Jack thought bitterly.

Flinging his cigarette over the balcony, he wiped his eyes and walked back inside. After peeking in on Samantha, he quickly changed into dry clothes, and changed the stained sheets on the bed. Jack walked into the closet and sorted through clothing. Over the years he'd purchased several wardrobes worth for his Samantha, he wanted to find something warm and comforting for her. At last he settled on a long ivory nightgown from France that was modest and old fashioned with long billowy sleeves. When he bought it he'd envisioned her wearing it and pretending she was his virgin bride in another era, but tonight the fantasy was far from his mind as he carried the gown into the bathroom.

"Are you ready to get out?"

She nodded and started to rise painfully from the water. Jack held a large bathsheet up and enveloped her in it. Bending to release the water from the tub he looked up at his battered angel. Jack stood up and picked her up from the tub and set her on her feet. Wordlessly, he took another towel and gently began to towel her wet hair. When she made no move to dry off, he took the bathsheet he'd wrapped around her and patted her dry. He held the nightgown up for her, she looked at him dully and raised her arms, allowing him to pull it over her head. Jack walked out of the bathroom, relieved when she followed him out.

Although he hated subjecting her to further examination, Jack stood at the end of the bed and suggested gently, "Why don't we get this part over so we can make you comfortable?"

She sighed and agreed walking over to the bed as Jack gathered pillows. Raising her nightgown to her waist she lay back on the mound of pillows, staring up at the mirror again. Jack grabbed the box of medical gloves from the stool and reached in for a pair, only to have his hand hit bare cardboard. He cursed softly.

"What is it?" Sam asked struggling to pull her head up.

"I'm out of gloves. I'll have to go down the street to the all night pharmacy and buy more."

"Can't you do this without the gloves?"

Jack hesitated, uncertain how to respond. "Only if you're all right with the idea. I really don't mind going out, it would only take five minutes. Why don't I just-"

Samantha interrupted, "Jack it's okay, just let's get this over with."

"Be right back," he answered and went into the bathroom.

She could hear him scrubbing his hands. The logical part of her mind said he was doing it for her health. But in the back of her mind, Sam thought she was now damaged goods even to her stalker. When Jack came back into the room, she felt slightly dejected at the idea she was repugnant to him. Jack studied her expression quizzically for a moment before sitting on the stool to conclude her exam.

"Samantha, you know I'm a smoker, right?" Jack inquired as he sat.

"Yes." What the hell was he talking about that for? Samantha wondered.

"Because I smoke, pretty much non-stop, there's nicotine buildup on my fingers. If I hadn't washed my hands, it would feel like I was rubbing salt onto your skin."

Hearing that she felt slightly better and appreciated his thinking of that.

"How do you feel?" Jack gently probed her wounded flesh and laid his other hand on her abdomen, feeling for internal damage.

"I'm fine," she replied automatically.

"Are lies really necessary between us, Samantha?"

Irritated, she retorted, "Fine! You want to know how I fucking feel? I feel like someone used sandpaper on my pussy and ass! Childbirth is suddenly a pleasant memory in comparison. I'm hurting in places I never even knew I had! Truthful enough for you Mr. Jack of all Fucking Trades?!?"

Given her state of mind, he wouldn't tell her, but Jack actually felt encouraged by her display of anger. Earlier when she'd gone into shock he'd feared she might be too damaged to recover emotionally from her ordeal. Her verbal tirade was a good sign that with enough time and care, Samantha would one day recover. That day was regrettably far away, but Jack would cling to any hope for his Samantha he found. He answered, "Yes, thank you Samantha. I appreciate your candor."

"Do I need stitches?" she inquired fearfully. The last thing she wanted was more pain, but she felt like she'd been ripped in two.

He considered her torn and inflamed tissue for several moments before replying, "I don't think so. You're going to be hurting for a few days, but I have something that will help with that."

Relieved not be getting stitches, she watched as he rummaged through a dresser near the bed. When he walked towards her with a glass jar filled with pale green cream inside it, she demanded, "What is that?"

"A little something Dr. Trades keeps on hand."

She eyed him and the jar suspiciously as he sat back down on the stool As he opened the jar, she wasn't sure she liked the idea of him putting it on her. Jack poured some of the lotion out into his hand and put the jar aside. Samantha tensed slightly when he dipped his right hand fingers into the palm of his left. Gently Jack skimmed his fingers over her raw flesh and she sighed as the lotion cooled her skin and took the edge off the pain. Finally she began to relax as his touch spread welcome relief.

"Better?"

"Much," she confirmed.

"Samantha?"

"What?"

"I don't want to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable. But you have a couple nasty scrapes just over your clit. If you prefer not to have me apply any more or wish to do so yourself-"

"Just do it Jack. It still hurts but that's making it a little better."

"Okay," he agreed and complied with her command. "I just didn't want you to think I was trying to- "

"I know Jack. Even you're not that sick."

His task finished, Jack stood up looking slightly hurt and wordlessly sat the jar of cream on the nightstand. Then he went into the kitchenette and washed his hands and began to busy himself. Sam lifted herself off the pillows and laid back down on the bed. Slightly more comfortable, she looked at her surroundings and took in the site of Jack's lair. Everywhere she looked she saw her image smiling at her and dozens of roses in various stages of dryness.

Jack walked to the bed with a glass of red liquid in his hand and a black leather bag. Handing her the glass, he told her, "Here."

"What is is?" she demanded suspiciously and sniffed it.

"Cranberry juice."

Sam made a face, "Just for your little file on my likes and dislikes, I hate this stuff."

"I'm aware of that. However you will drink it because right now you're very susceptible to a bladder infection and I don't think you want to add to your discomfort."

Still scowling, she took a sip and watched as he opened the bag and pulled out a syringe. "What's that for?"

Jack pulled a small file from the bag and drew out a shot. As he held it up to the light and flicked out the airbubbles he answered, "Penicillin. You need a shot of it as a preventative against syphilis. Where do you want it?"

Sitting the juice down on the nightstand, she pushed the sleeve of the nightgown up and allowed him to trace a swab of alcohol over her skin and to inject her. She hadn't even thought about disease or pregnancy, but now those thoughts loomed eerily over her. "Jack, not that you probably aren't already aware, but I'm not on the pill."

Jack capped the syringe and pulled a pill bottle out of the bag. After opening it he shook out a white pill and placed it in her hand. "Plan B pill, levonorgesterel."

"Not that I don't appreciate, but why do you have these laying around?" Sam asked as she swallowed the pill and rinsed it down with a sip of the cranberry juice.

"Sharon seemed to think I would forget all about you if she got in the family way. Seemed to think if she applied the condom and broke the tip with her nail I wouldn't notice. Thank God I did and after she pulled it a second time, I got a prescription so I wouldn't have to run all over Atlanta trying to find the damn things if she tried it again."

"What's that?" Sam saw Jack was fumbling with another bottle and shook out a pink and red capsule.

"Amoxicillan, you'll have to take it three times a day for the next ten days as prevention against Chlamydia and Gonorreaha." After she swallowed the pills he told her, "I'm going to make you some tea and toast, you won't feel well taking those things on an empty stomach. Try and finish your juice for me in the meantime. After you eat, I can give you something for the pain, but I don't want you to fall asleep beforehand."

"Jack," she called out as he walked away.

"Yes Samantha?"

As he approached the bed, she laid her hand on his arm and looked up at him and spoke softly, "Thank you."


	4. 4

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated!

Part 4

Jack mechanically began to make toast and tea for Samantha. His thoughts torn between agony and rage for the injuries to his beloved and a tiny hint of pleasure that she had thanked him for helping her. Guiltily he pushed aside the warm feeling her gratitude had brought about. If she hadn't been violated she would have never let him near her and her gratitude was the same for him as it would have been for to a total stranger. Jack wasn't going to kid himself, Samantha would at best want nothing to do with him in the future and at the worst have him arrested.

Once he had a tray ready he brought it to Samantha and watched as she slowly fussed with the toast and drank a couple cups of tea. Neither spoke, but sat in utter silence, the only sounds in Jack's sanctuary were the dull electric hum of his computers. Jack decided she wasn't eating enough of her toast to suit him, so he started picking up the pieces she'd shredded on her plate and began to feed them to her. For a moment she scowled and drew back, but sighed and allowed him to place the toast in her mouth.

"I know you don't feel like eating," Jack soothed. Then he encouraged, "There's only a little more toast to go."

Sam nodded and a worried look crossed her face, "What about Angel? She's going to call Bailey if I don't come home."

"What about if you call her on my phone and tell her you're at a friend's," Jack gently suggested.

"That would be ok for tonight," she replied and began to cry slightly. "But what about tomorrow and after that? They can't see me like this!"

Samantha, Jack decided was regressing slightly, probably as a coping mechanism. So he considered carefully and spoke to her as though he were speaking to a child. "Let's just worry about tonight and we'll deal with tomorrow when it comes."

"Jack, I look hideous," she sniffled. "They'll know something is wrong."

"You don't look hideous," Jack replied. Running quickly through the potential verbal minefield of reassuring her about her appearance after the attack, he settled on, "You look like a very brave girl who's had a very difficult night. As to them knowing if something is wrong, you don't have to see them if you don't want to."

"I don't want to spend the next however many weeks it takes to look human in a hotel," Sam declared petulantly.

"You may stay here as long as you like."

"I knew it! I should have known better! I-"

Jack interrupted, "Samantha, I meant you could have the place for as long as you like. If you wish to be alone I can go elsewhere."

"You trust me alone here?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, besides it's all going to be yours one day anyway. You've been sole beneficiary of my will for many years now."

Casting a disparaging eye about she retorted, "Lucky me."

As soon as the words were out, guilt washed over her and she regretted saying them as a hurt look crossed his face. He could have left her at the hospital or tried to take advantage of her situation, but he hadn't. Jack had been nothing but kind and polite. True she was hurting and he'd killed many people around her, but the forlorn expression on his face touched something inside her. "Jack-"

"I can do nothing about your accommodations tonight Samantha, but if you like I can arrange something nicer tomorrow. In the morning I'll arrange a car and driver to take you to somewhere more to your liking. The mansion in Savannah is occupied by my Mother at the moment, but she would leave for a few weeks if needed. Or if you prefer, there are 20 other mansions and estates across the world to choose from or I'll rent anywhere you desire if none of my homes please you."

"Jack I didn't mean it like that. Look, it's been a really lousy night and I have to admit I've been thrown for a loop by you being Jack and being nothing like I would have expected. I don't want you to leave your home and I would very much like to stay if you're still willing to let me."

"I would never rescind an invitation Sam. But I believe it would be best if in the morning I secure a nurse for you and take my leave."

She cringed at him calling her 'Sam' and felt oddly abandoned as he walked away. Tears flowed anew and she stood up painfully as she cried out, "Jack!"

In an instant, the tray had been discarded and he was back at her side. "What's wrong? Please sweetheart get back into bed you shouldn't be up."

She clutched his arm and pleaded, "Please! Please don't leave, Jack!"

"Samantha, I was only going into the kitchen, I wasn't going to leave you," he stared in confusion and urged, "Please dearest, do get back into bed."

"I meant leave tomorrow," she explained as he tucked her into the bed. "Don't leave me alone with some stranger."

"I'll stay if that's what you wish, but should you change you mind, just let me know." Jack turned away and picked the tray up to take to the kitchen, pausing a moment to inquire, "Would you like any pain medication? I have everything over the counter and prescription you could imagine."

"Maybe some ibuprofen?"

"I'll bring it along with the phone in just a moment."

Jack disappeared to the kitchenette and deposited the tray. He got a glass of ice water for Samantha to take her pills with and picked up the bottle of pain reliever. A quick dash to his desk for his cell phone and he returned to her side. Handing the items to Sam he asked her, "Where is your car?"

"My car?"

"I'm assuming you were out somewhere when the attack occurred. If your car were towed it would set off alarm bells with the VCTF. So I'll have to retrieve it."

"It's at the mall, but do you have to go out tonight? Couldn't we call the mall or something?" Sam fretted. She knew she'd hurt him and couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from her, but she really didn't want to be alone.

"I was merely going to arrange to have it towed here for you. Why don't you call Angel? I'll make the call about your car on the house phone while you use the cell. Should you need anything in the night, just let me know."

"Where are you sleeping?"

"Should I decide to sleep I'll do so in a chair, but I don't plan to sleep just now," Jack informed her and walked away.

Jack's polite distance made Samantha feel strange as she called Angel. Once her excuses were made to her roommate, she swallowed the pills. She turned off the bedside light and settled uneasily in the bed. For a long time she lay awake staring at the glint of the mirrored ball over the bed. Sam kept seeing the attack as she closed her eyes and when she tried to assuage her fears by reassuring herself that Jack would keep her safe, she would see the hurt in his eyes. Maybe he would act more normally if she apologized in the morning for hurting his feelings.

But there was more to it then hurt feelings, it was as if he couldn't get far enough away from her fast enough. Maybe he considered her damaged goods, she thought as the crude and cruel remarks of her attackers echoed in her ears. After all these years of despising his feelings for her, she felt oddly bereft by their loss. Tonight he'd been so sweet and kind, his behavior had been entirely above reproach as he helped her. Over the years Sam had cried many times because of Jack; but on the night of her attack, Samantha fell asleep crying for Jack.

On the other side of the loft, Jack sat motionless in the dark until he was certain from her even breathing that Samantha was asleep. Quietly he picked up his cigarettes, his lighter and a bottle of whiskey and took them out onto the balcony. The air was cold through his thin shirt, but he decided it really didn't matter. Lighting a cigarette and sitting on a chair so he could stare up at the sky, Jack decided there was a hell of a lot that didn't matter anymore. Tonight his life changed just as much as his Samantha's had and nothing could ever be the same.

Opening the bottle of Jack Daniel's he took a large swallow and enjoyed the burning sensation it made down his throat. Physical pain was good, he could deal with that. The pain in his heart was what was unbearable. He'd failed her. Jack hadn't been watching her properly and now she was suffering, it was all his fault. All these years he had guarded her and dreamed of her loving him, now were erased in a single evening. He'd let her down and now she was lost to him. Tears fell from his dark eyes as he wept for them both. For Samantha he wept for her pain and for the sheer devastation his golden goddess had endured. At the same time, Jack cried for himself, for the betrayed look in Samantha's eyes and the knowledge that she could never love him now.

Jack was halfway through the bottle of whiskey when the first scream came. Over the years he'd heard many people scream, usually at his inducement, however Samantha's scream chilled him to his soul. In seconds he was at her bedside, she was sitting upright but her eyes were closed. She was screaming in her sleep, so deeply caught in her nightmare that her blood curdling screams weren't rousing her. He hesitated and gently laid a hand on her arm, hoping it would wake her.

"NOOO!!! God please make it STOP!" Samantha cried out.

Unable to bear the pitiful sight a moment longer, Jack sat on the bed and began to shake her in earnest. "Samantha! Wake up!"

Blue eyes shot open at lightning speed, for a moment she blinked in confusion, then whimpered, "Jack!"

"I'm here Samantha. It's all over, nothing can hurt you now."

His heart nearly stopped as she threw her arms around his neck and and sobbed into his chest, "Hold me! Oh God, please hold me, Jack!"

Jack held her tightly, his heart aching as she shuddered against him and her tears soaked his shirt. Hesitant at first then more confidently he stroked her back and murmured reassuringly to her. When her crying subsided slightly, he started to pull away in vain as her hold around his neck remained like iron. "Maybe you should try to sleep again."

"Stay," she entreated and looked up at him through watery eyes. Then added, "Please."

"Samantha I-"

"Please Jack," she implored and pulled the covers back for him to join her.

Uncertainly, he joined her in the bed and lay stone still as Samantha wrapped her arms around him again. Overwhelmed by her closeness and his failure, scalding wetness spilled down his cheeks and he hoped she wouldn't notice. His hopes were dashed as she raised her head and looked at him in the dim light. Jack's breath caught as she raised her hand to his cheek and brushed the moisture away. Samantha brought her fingertips to her mouth and kissed them, then pressed her hand to Jack's heart. For several moments they looked at one another through the darkness before settling down. In the silence they held one another, never letting go even as sleep overtook them...


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Sorry about how long it's been since the last update. There's more story coming, this is going to be about as long as Death of Innocence was. Reviews are appreciated and inspire me to type faster.

Part 5

Jack roused about two hours later and watched Samantha as she slept. She hadn't moved and still had her arms tightly around him. Many times Jack had fantasized about waking to his Samantha, but under the circumstances he felt disgusted. He longed for her to cling to him out of love, not fear. As he lay silently, his eyes darted about and for the first time ever, Jack felt uncomfortable being surrounded by the images of her smiling face. After all these years of dreaming of Samantha, he knew she could never be his now.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Jack extricated himself from Samantha's embrace and he walked out onto the balcony. His cigarettes and whiskey were still there from last night. He lit a cigarette and shivered in the cool air. Beside him the whiskey beckoned temptingly, he longed to forget his pain; but Samantha would need him today and he wouldn't fail her again. His pain was of no consequence, all that mattered was helping his Samantha and avenging her. A noise broke his reverie and he rushed back inside, in the bathroom he heard the sound of Samantha retching and then crying.

Gently knocking, he asked, "Samantha, can I come in?"

Sitting on the floor by the toilet, Sam sobbed her consent, "Okay."

Jack entered and walked to Samantha. Bending down, he was about to try and comfort her when she lurched over the bowl and started vomiting again. Hot tears fell from Samantha's eyes, as she finally sat back helplessly, holding her stomach. Throwing up in front of any man was bad enough, but after last night facing this last indignity in front of Jack was too much. As he helped her up to her feet to rinse her mouth in the sink she cried even harder. For several minutes Samantha stood gripping the sink steadied by Jack.

"Why do I have to have the flu, now of all times?" she wailed in protest as she turned around.

"It's not the flu Samantha, it's a side effect from the levonorgesterel," Jack replied.

"Side effect? Thanks a lot Jack!" she snapped waspishly.

"It's better than an unwanted pregnancy, Sam," he said softly. Moving towards the door, Jack murmured, "I'm going to see about making you some tea."

Samantha wanted to argue with him but she couldn't. The thought of an unwanted reminder of her attackers was too horrible to contemplate. When she'd scolded him, she'd seen the hurt expression on his face. She wanted to stop him, but her stomach had other ideas as she started to throw up again. After she finished, she slumped over limply. Lying on the bathroom floor, Samantha wrapped her arms around her stomach as dry heaves began to wrack her body. She couldn't remember having ever felt worse in her life than she had in the past twenty-four hours.

Jack appeared in the doorway with a cup of tea and knelt down, "Try drinking this slowly Sam, it might help a little."

His calling her Sam instead of Samantha felt odd. She knew she'd hurt him earlier and his solicitous but distant manner made her feel guilty. What was wrong with her? She'd been raped last night and now she felt badly because her stalker didn't use his pet name for her. Samantha chided herself and reached out clumsily for the tea. Her hand wrapped around the mug and then it seemed to slip through her fingers. The hot tea spilled on Jack's hand and the mug shattered on the floor.

"Are you all right? Did you get burned?" Jack asked anxiously. When she didn't answer, he pressed, "Samantha did you get-"

She'd burned him and his first thought was her safety she realized as he spoke. When Jack said her name, Samantha fell apart. She began to cry and cut his question off by wrapping her arms around him. At the moment, Jack was the only familiar and comforting thing she had to hold onto. Wordlessly, Jack stood up and picked Samantha up from amid the shards of the mug. Moving out of the bathroom, Jack walked to the bed and laid Samantha down. For several minutes she continued to cling to him and wouldn't let go. When her grip loosened at last, Jack moved to clean up the bathroom, but Samantha stopped him.

"Jack, wait. I-" she trailed off. Softly Samantha apologized, "I'm sorry for earlier. I'd forgotten about the side effects of the pills and I shouldn't have-"

Holding a hand up Jack shook his head. "It's all right Samantha. Big mean serial killer guy here, remember?"

Despite her nausea, Samantha laughed slightly and Jack left to clean up the bathroom. By the time he finished, she had laid down. The cramping and nausea hadn't gotten any better as she laid clutching her midsection. Trembling from dry heaves, the pain was a cross between the worst menstrual cramps she ever experienced, labor pains and the flu. Between the side effects of the day after pill and the raw stinging feeling between her legs, Samantha felt like screaming but was too weak to do so.

After Jack finished cleaning up the bathroom, he disappeared into the kitchenette and moments later reappeared with a tray with another mug of tea on it. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, he placed the tray on the stool he'd sat on to examine Samantha the previous night and gently propped her head up with some pillows. When he brought the mug of tea to her mouth she obediently took a sip.

"I know you're feeling very badly at the moment," Jack told her gently. "But you're going to have to make some decisions and then a couple phone calls. Last night you didn't wish your friends to know or to see you. Have you changed your mind?"

Sam shook her head vehemently. Right now she thought if she saw Bailey's kind eyes filled with pity or Angel looking at her with sadness, she'd break. She felt dirty and while her friends wouldn't feel that way, she felt a strong sense of humiliation as in the back of her mind the words of her attackers were repeated over and over. And worse still, she didn't want Chloe to have a crash course in such unpleasant adult subject matter. Chloe knew mommy dealt with bad people, she didn't deserve to have her innocence stripped away and hear about what happened to her mother.

"Your bruises should heal in roughly two weeks. I can't say for certain because I don't know how quickly your body is going to recuperate. I don't think it will work for you to call in sick for that length of time, your friends would worry and want to see you."

"True," Sam agreed.

Reaching for the cell phone from the nightstand that she had used the night before, Jack handed it to her and suggested, "Call Bailey and then call Angel. Tell them that a friend of yours in Savannah is sick and that you need to take care of them. Since they still believe Lucas is Jack, they won't worry about security for you."

"But what if they want the phone number?" Samantha fretted.

Jack took a piece of paper from the tray and handed it to her. "This is my phone line at my mother's house in Savannah. I'll forward the calls to here so they may call you and not be any the wiser that you're still in Atlanta."

Then Jack rose and walked away from the bedroom area through the living area and out onto the balcony. Sam watched him walk away and felt slightly odd having him leave her alone. Starting to punch in Bailey's office number at the VCTF, she realized Jack had left her alone not for privacy but to give her a chance to turn him in. The gesture was oddly touching, maybe it was what she should do, but she couldn't.

Right now, Jack was the only familiar thing in her life that brought her comfort and didn't hurt to have him around. There was no doubt in her mind that he would protect her at any cost and feeling safe was a something Samantha needed. Although he was clearly upset about her rape and willing to do anything to help her, Jack had done nothing to try and exploit the situation. If anything he was rather distant and seemed to be avoiding her.

Sam gave both Bailey and Angel the excuse that Jack suggested, along with the phone number that he gave her. It was hard to sound normal, especially as sick as she felt but she did her best and any abnormal tone her mentor and her best friend likely dismissed as concern for her friend. Sitting the phone down, Samantha took a sip of the tea and sat it back on the tray and settled back onto the pillows. Several minutes later, Jack appeared and he picked up a bottle and syringe that had been sitting on the tray. Sam had wondered what they were and looked at him inquisitively.

"It's a sedative," Jack explained. "There's no point in you staying awake for cramping and dry heaves. Your body has purged the contents of your stomach and now it's a matter of waiting out the remainder of the side effects."

Uncertain of what to say, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I didn't turn you in."

Samantha mentally kicked herself for her abrupt statement and was shocked by Jack's response. Non-chalantly, he shrugged and replied, "It wouldn't matter if you had."

"Why wouldn't it matter?" she questioned as he pushed the sleeve of her nightgown up and tore open an alcohol swab.

"Because other than getting you well and dealing with your attackers, nothing is important to me anymore," Jack sighed as he injected her.

"You couldn't have dealt with my attackers in prison," Sam pointed out.

"Yes, Samantha, I could have dealt with them. Maybe not in person but with a few phone calls I could have the matter taken care of," he responded as he capped the syringe and replaced it on the tray.

His words disturbed her, but drowsiness seemed to wash over her and as he started to leave, she slurred, "Stay with me."

"All right," Jack agreed.

Samantha reached for his hand and mumbled, "Why you only person I stand now?"

Taking a moment to process and translate her garbled words, Jack murmured, "Because you don't care what I think or feel, so it's easier for you."

Protest rose up in her mind, but couldn't seem to reach her tongue as the lethargic sensation from the sedative overtook her. Samantha's eyes fluttered several times and at last she was asleep. For a long time Jack sat with his hand in hers as she shuddered from the medication even in her sleep. Even though she was unconscious, he could tell she was in pain and his heart ached.

Extricating his hand from hers, Jack took care of the tray and then grabbed his jacket. He needed some supplies to care properly for her. His Samantha would sleep through his absence Jack thought as he made his way outside. As he walked to his car, he corrected himself. Not his Samantha, she never could be his now, he didn't deserve her after failing her. All he could do was get her well and avenge her. And then? There really wasn't anything left for him...


End file.
